Wednesday, September 25, 2019

Tempus fugit


When I retired and moved to Nova Scotia from rural Ontario, I worried just a bit. Now, I definitely looked forward to the change. Change, after all, is a good thing if one has the right attitude towards it. And Nova Scotia is a piece of paradise. However, leaving friends and an established and full life offered uncertainty.

Yet I find myself busy: busy with friends who visit us; busy with new discoveries; busy with new undertakings. Yes,I am retired. But that does not mean I am idle or stagnant.

I have, at the age of almost 70 years, taken up the fiddle. And I have just purchased a second, smaller fiddle. I am busy with a play I have written and will be performing this fall in three different communities and three very different venues. And I am busy with new friends. Busy exploring. Busy enjoying myself!

And retirement also means losing touch with days of the week and hours of the day. For example, on Tuesday of this week I emailed someone that I would see him at the Celtic jam "tomorrow", thinking tomorrow was Thursday. (It was only Wednesday.) Then I realized my mistake. So I emailed him that I had forgotten that it was "Monday". (It was already Tuesday.) So I am sure I confused the hell out of him!!!! - Not to mention myself!

Where do the days go? Does it matter? They are full and varied. They are vital and vibrant. They are simply a morsel of passing time. Something to be taken hold of and cherished. And something to let go. 

Thursday, September 12, 2019

Aftermath


If what we went through in our part of Nova Scotia on September 7, 2019 was only a “tropical storm”, as some have claimed, then I would never want the misfortune of experiencing a hurricane of any category. But we were one of the lucky ones: no tree damage on our property, and no damage to our Captain’s House. The only harm, if it can be called that, was a bit of spoiled food that met the compost bin after 74 hours of power outage.


However, large limbs and massive trees have fallen all around our area. But only one home in our locality, that I have seen, was seriously damaged. No one was killed.

Watching the storm from the comfort of our living room was awe inspiring and, at times, terror inducing. The rain was steady from early morning awakening until mid-evening. The wind, however, was turned on and off as if on a whim: sometimes gusting, sometimes swirling, sometimes eerily silent and still. The water was likewise still at times; then, at times, rolling relentlessly in from the southeast. But at the worst of the wind, thankfully for us at least, the wind swept in forcefully from the north, taking the waves away from our fragile shoreline. Walls of water careened across the surface.

What is amazing to me is the relative speed with which power and tree clearing crews have been able to address the destruction. For us, having just returned from nine weeks at our off-grid summer cabin, three days without power was almost nothing. We had a woodstove, a barbeque, and candles. And, thanks to an energy efficiency programme that gave us wrapping for our water heater, we had water that stayed remarkably warm for three days.

What is also amazing, and at the same time gratifying, is the resilience of people. Neighbours have cared for and shared with neighbours with wonderful humour and goodwill. Friends from far and wide have made an effort to be in touch and show concern. 

Sometimes, crises can bring out the best in us human beings.

Thursday, September 5, 2019

Weather 'Tis Nobler to Suffer the Slings and Arrows

When one lives outside a large urban centre, one is much more aware of the weather. This has been as true at our former rural home in the Northumberland Hills of Ontario, at our rustic summer cabin on a peaceful lake in the District of Parry Sound in Ontario and at our current home on the shore of the Annapolis Basin in Nova Scotia. In part, I suppose, that is because one is more able to watch the sky, the horizon and grand vistas.


Today, we are told to expect the remnants of a category five hurricane, which has devastated the Bahamas and parts of the United States, to hit us within 48 hours. It is anticipated to be a category one hurricane by then – still a fierce and dangerous prospect, especially if one lives in coastal areas as we do. And that fact that the usually cold waters off our province are unusually warm this year is only going to feed the storms hunger.

So it is all about preparation. Power outages are expected. High winds could cause significant property damage and certainly throw about loose items of outdoor furniture. The tides have been high recently, and a storm surge will almost certainly cause flooding and increased erosion. 

Those who neglect climate and its impact are unwise. And yet today the sun shines and it is a delightful 21 Celsius as we sit on our back deck and watch the tide coming in. How deceiving this can be. And I expect this is why people are often lulled into complacency despite alerts and warnings. 

We, hopefully, will be as ready as one can be in the face of an angry nature. And we can hope that the weather trackers are wrong. But it is always better to be safe than it is to be sorry.

Sunday, September 1, 2019

Home Again


They say it is always wonderful to come home no matter how wonderful the time away has been. For us, this is always true. Indeed, we seem to take our sense of being home wherever we go.

Our nine summer weeks at our rustic off-grid cabin in Northern Ontario were a constant delight. Daily early morning swims, often in the thick mist, and often seemingly alone on the lake except for the loons, the turtles and assorted other beings of creation, were rejuvenating. Peaceful kayak trips each day along the varied shoreline were soul restoring. It was a summer of heat and drought. It was a summer of old friends and new experiences. It was a summer of haunting quiet and raucous laughter.

But to be home again on the shore of the Annapolis Basin in Nova Scotia is perfection. It is the brandy after a sumptuous meal. It is utter contentment.